Prompt #30, Turnbull/Dewey fic for sam_gamgee from exbex

The two masked men who had robbed the attendees of the Consulate party at gunpoint had long since fled the scene, but the detectives had not finished taking statements until very late, or, very early, as the case may be. It had, of course, been Constable Fraser who had de-escalated the situation so that no one had gotten hurt.

Ren Turnbull, well, for reasons that do not need exploring at this juncture, had had an unfortunate incident with the fondue in the kitchen that had left his uniform disgraced and his hair matted by cheese and chocolate, while outside the kitchen doors armed men had managed to slip away.

He was still surveying the damage of himself when he heard Detective Kowalski using the tone that he reserved for Constable Fraser when he was of the opinion that Fraser had done something particularly foolish, or reckless. Ren knew that tone well, and, unlike either Detective Kowalski or Constable Fraser, he knew exactly where it came from and exactly what it meant.

“Ray, the men were wearing blazers with very unusual crests, and very gaudy rubber masks. I’m confident that we can…”

“First of all, Fraser, any criminal who’s smart enough to walk upright will ditch the jackets and the masks, and, second of all, you are not listening to a word I’ve been saying.”

Constable Fraser rubbed a thumb over his eyebrow, the tic that Ren couldn’t decide if Fraser knew he was doing or not. “Ray, I have been listening to you. I am simply trying to make the point that if they have discarded the blazers and the masks, it would still be very probable that we could find the items in question and tracking the criminals would be quite possible.

“We all wear masks, Constable.” Ren had said it so quietly he was a little surprised to see the questioning look on Fraser’s face when he finally looked up from his ruined uniform. He reddened, slightly, at Fraser’s bewildered expression and Detective Kowalski’s eye-roll. “Freak,” Detective Kowalski muttered.

Ren wanted to retort with at least I know who I am, but Detectives Huey and Dewey were now also standing there, and with all of them looking at him, he would probably just stutter and stammer if he did.

******

Three nights later Ren went to his favorite bar. He liked it because it was clean, no one cared how he was dressed or what he drank, and most all of no one cared about his sexuality, since almost everyone else who frequented the bar was in the same situation.

It wasn’t the type of bar where its patrons would slink off to dark corners, but one where someone could strike up a conversation, ask someone to dance, offer to buy someone a drink, and perhaps, leave with someone you liked.

Not that Ren had ever quite gotten up the courage to do any of these things, but it was nice to know that he could, if he could ever get to the point where he could ask someone out without the pounding of blood in his ears drowning out the sound of his own voice.

Ren disliked sitting still, it made him antsy. Guard duty was bad enough, and it wasn’t long before he was ready to leave. Courage wasn’t going to find him tonight. He paid and stood up, turning around only to nearly collide with Detective Dewey.

He blinked, shocked, and felt his face redden. Truth be told, Detective Dewey had always struck him as singularly handsome, but Ren also suspected that Dewey probably held the same opinion of him that most others did.

The moment became a little more surreal when Dewey flashed him that beautiful smile and shrugged. “Hey, let me buy you a drink. Freaks like us gotta stick together, right?”

******

Ren stared at himself in the mirror. The problem with sleeping with someone was that he felt so exposed, not just in the physical sense, that part wasn’t the problem, it was everything else.

He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He opened the door and slipped into the bedroom. Tom was already laying on the bed, his boxers still on, casually flipping through a magazine. He looked up when Ren entered the room and he let the magazine slide to the floor. “Come to bed,” he said, and flashed that smile, the one that lit up his smoldering dark eyes.

Ren slipped into bed beside and rolled onto his stomach, the blood pounding in his ears again, his own eyes a little wider than usual. Tom was kissing him, on the back of his neck and his shoulders. He ran his fingers through Ren’s hairs, and when he spoke teasingly, Ren could swear he could hear that smile. “Relax Ren. I’ve got it covered.” Strangely enough, Ren found that he could. He threaded his fingers in the sheets as Tom slowly opened him with slick fingers. The blood seemed to rush behind his eyelids, bursting into color as Tom entered him and murmured his name in his ear. Ren buried his face in the pillow and grinned.

Awwww, sniffle. This makes me wanna huggle Turnbull. Great use of the prompt! I love how you bring out a serious and sad side in him when he's usually just the butt of jokes. So glad Dewey saved the day ;)